


with your head on my shoulder

by sultrysweets



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: At one am, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kinda, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Short & Sweet, Smoking, The word cock is used, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:48:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23498515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sultrysweets/pseuds/sultrysweets
Summary: A gentle moment between Alexander and Thomas
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/Thomas Jefferson
Comments: 1
Kudos: 75





	with your head on my shoulder

“Why do you go back there?”

Thomas is sitting by the window, puffing on a cigarette, when Alexander pops the question to him.

“Go back where?” He asks, but already knows the answer without looking back at the other.

“Your home.” Thomas can hear Alexander shifting on the bed, probably fixing the sheets that had become too uneven on one side. It’s a habit that’s anything but what Alexander is. The rest of the room is always terribly messy, with papers splayed over his desk and clothes strewn across the floor. He’d mentioned this habit to alex the third time they had sex, lying on separate sides of the bed, not quite used to the affection. Alex had only chuckled, but it elicited something warm in thomas’ chest that reminded him of golden sunlight pouring through tall windows.

“Though, I’d hardly call it a home at this point.”

But Alexander has no right to ask the questions that he does. Why does he go home? It’s his fucking home. It’s where he grew up, it’s where most of his memories lay.

He doesn’t answer for a few moments. Takes a long drag of his cigarette that fills his lungs so he might not have to answer for mere seconds longer.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” He pushes the smoke from his lungs with a heavy sigh, his chest still burning from how long he’d held it in.

“Thomas-“

“Fuck off.”

All he gets in return is a heavy sigh. There’s a stretch of silence and then the sound of shuffling behind him, before Alexander is plopping down next to him and resting his head on his shoulder.

“I’d rather fuck you instead.” Lips attach to the skin of his neck, mapping out constellations that Thomas would only name when in the privacy of his own room.

He gives a half aborted laugh, flicking some of the ashes off the end of his cigarette before he smushes it against the windowsill. Not that Alexander minds, he’s been doing it since they’ve started this endeavor. Somehow they’re always gone by the time he comes back.

“So soon?” He tilts his head to the side and sighs contently as Alexander continues to map out his skin with his teeth and tongue.

“I don’t think it’s been soon enough.” Is Alexander’s witty reply, and how can he say no to that? He craves the validation the shorter feeds him. The way his finger tips arouse heat that boils beneath his skin and makes him feel alive.

They end up on the bed with Thomas straddling Alexander’s hips. He lines up and sinks down onto the others cock, a shuddery moan leaving him. And this is exactly where he needs to be. In bed, with Alexander everywhere. In him, around him, tracing his fingers over his skin while muttering sweet nothings that Thomas can’t quite make out most of the time.

He pretends not to notice the paths his fingers take are often the ones that are already carved out by ugly scars.

The afterglow always makes him feel vulnerable. It was the time he usually dressed and left so Alexander wouldn’t be able to see what a mess he would become. He becomes pliant under the others hands, like a clay waiting to be molded to just the right shape.

It’s strange. Outside of school, they’re so different with each other. Alexander is kinder, and Thomas? Well, Thomas is just quiet. He sits and listens while Alexander rambles on, thankful that something other than white noise is filling his ears. Thankful that he doesn’t have to put on the persona that shouts boisterous and snobby. Thankful he doesn’t have to go home right away.

Home is quiet. Home is dangerous. Home isn’t really home.

Thomas will never admit that he purposely stays longer, tries to drag out their time together so he doesn’t have to go home. He doesn’t think he has to admit it. He thinks, no, he knows, that alexander knows. He’s grateful that he says nothing.

“Stay the night with me.” Alexander caresses his skin in a way that is far more intimate than just sleeping together. He brushes his lips over his collarbone and traces over one of the scars that Thomas hadn’t put there himself.

“Please. I know how bad it gets.”

Thomas stays. Curled up in the embrace of someone who might actually understand him. 

**Author's Note:**

> hiii I wrote this on a whim at one in the morning while I raided the kitchen. anyways. Yell at me on tumblr, @tarotjunkie


End file.
